


The Hand's Duties

by Delay_no_more



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: "Throne" sex, Abuse of Power, Aerwin, Aerys Is His Own Warning, Aerys and Rhaella are a team, Aerys being a dick, Alternative Targaryen House words, Anal Sex, Blow Job, Community: valar-morekinks, Dragon-cock strap-on, F/M, Femdom, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Games, Overstimulation, Pegging, Playing with concepts of masculinity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Queening, Smotherbox, Threat of public humiliation, Throne Sex, Tywin and Rhaella go way back, Unsafe Insane and Non-consensual, Verbal Humiliation, facesitting, sadistic!Rhaella, smothering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delay_no_more/pseuds/Delay_no_more
Summary: Dragons like to play with lions. Because it's their gods-given right.Valar-morekinks Prompt (Round 12): Any Ruler/his or her Hand. Part of the Hand's duties include getting the King or Queen off.





	1. 263 AC (Aerys)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, everything belongs to GRRM.

He could feel the pressure build in his groin. He looked down on the heap of golden curls in his lap, grabbing a fistful to guide the head attached to it. “Slowly... there! Not too fast...” It took him all the self-restraint he could muster, but he wanted it to build slowly, wanted to savor this moment, wanted it to last. And he was the blood of the dragon; there was nothing he couldn't do, though the skill of his Hand certainly put his ability to the test.

It was a little-talked-about fact, but everyone in King's Landing knew what the duties of the Hand entailed. He may have spoken to the Council of _ruthlessness_ , _efficiency_ , and _decisive action_ , but Aerys Targaryen the Second of his Name knew exactly why he had appointed his childhood friend, and it had nothing to do with the extermination of House Reyne and House Tarbeck.

Well, perhaps just a little, for nothing thrilled the king quite as much as seeing a proud man humbled, and Tywin Lannister was pride walking tall on two legs, ever so prickly where the name and honor of his house was concerned. Aerys had never been very good at resisting the temptation to take him down a notch, show him his place. _My servant_.

His Hand sure was in his proper place now, on his knees, head bent, working that well-trained mouth of his around Aerys's throbbing manhood, encasing him in hot, wet goodness, driving him near insane. All the blood of the dragons inside of him was concentrated at the center of his body.

Aerys leaned back, bloodying his back on the rough edges of metal pressing against his bare skin, but he hardly even took notice of the pain. He was about to burst, and this time, he did not fight it. His Hand could feel it too and pulled away, but he wasn't quick enough; the king's seed squirted all over his face.

“Ah! Did I give you leave to withdraw?” Aerys chided once the blood had returned to his head and his voice was steady enough to speak. “Why would you waste that precious dragonseed?” But he wasn't angry, not truly. How could he be wroth when his friend knelt before him, looking ever so solemn while silky strings of cum trickled over that chiseled face of his, slowly oozing their way downward, dripping off his lips. The sight made Aerys chuckle. “My seed becomes you.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 _Yes, Your Grace._ The words echoed in his head as he studied his Hand's expression. The king had always had difficulty reading the look on that face. He had half a mind to berate Tywin for accepting his praise so readily, just to see how he would respond, to see if he would lose his cool, but then he thought better of it.

Instead, he reached out and touched his face ever so gently, caressing his cheeks and tracing the line of his jaw before wiping beads and streaks of cum away with his index. “You would not refuse my gift to you, would you?” He hummed, offering him his finger to suck off the seed. His Hand complied, never so much as hesitating for even a heartbeat.

The king would have lied to claim that did not please him, but it also made him wonder. _Why does he stay_? It was a question he did not ask himself for the first time. _Love? Friendship? No_. Aerys knew not to fool himself. There was no friendship left between them since he had first exercised his royal right to his Hand's body.

 _Duty_? As much as Aerys wished to believe the man before him was bound by duty and honor and the desire to serve his rightful king, he knew that was not what made him stay.

 _What is that look? Is it hatred? Spite? No. If it were, what would he gain by staying_? He bent forward to lick the last few drops of salty seed off Tywin's face before locking eyes with him one final time.

 _Ambition_ , he knew suddenly. _It's ambition that I see_.

 


	2. 268 AC (Aerys)

He was lost in his thoughts, sprawled across his four-poster bed, when he heard the soft rap on the door, his guard announcing the Hand of the King, and finally the firm steps of the man he'd been waiting for.

“Your Grace.”

The king raised his head. “Come in, come in!” He smiled. “What news of the port taxes, my friend? Is the matter settled?”

His Hand's face did not betray any emotion. “Raising those tariffs is ill advised. I strongly counsel against it.” _Ah, and you still think I have no advisers aside from you_ , Aerys thought.

He sat up and rose from the bed in one graceful movement. “Qarlton sings me a different song,” he said. “ _His_ song is of winter and the royal coffers. I'm inclined to believe him.” He waved his hand as if to push the thought aside. “Enough of this unpleasant talk. It's not why I sent for you.”

His servant took the not-so-subtle hint and dropped to his knees, unlacing the king's pants and pulling out his member, putting the tip in his mouth while gently stroking the underside of his shaft.

“No, not like this!” Aerys interrupted. “I want to take you properly!” He pushed the head back, turned around and grabbed the bottle of oil on the bedside table.

His Hand pulled down his own pants as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but his knees were trembling ever so slightly as he lowered himself on all fours. _Oh, how you_ hate _being used like this._ That thought alone excited the king so much it took him almost no effort to stroke himself to hardness.

There was a soft groan of pain as he forced his way into the tight hole, barely audible, but his ears were sharp. _The blood of the dragon hears_.

He grabbed a hold of his Hand's hips as he began thrusting into him, slow and deliberate, relishing every moment. _Nobody would claim that_ you _rule the Seven Kingdoms if they could see you now._

And suddenly, he knew just what to say, what he _had_ to say, his tongue itching to speak the words. “Remember _that_ woman? Your father's whore?” He whispered in his Hand's ear. “Lowborn, ambitious, quite skilled at how she ran the Rock, I'm sure even you would agree, but in the end, no more than a thief and a whore.” He leaned closer until he could feel the warmth of his own breath against the other man's neck. “You're just like her, and you know it.”

The canal around his shaft contracted suddenly. _Why, that hit a nerve_.

He pulled out until the tip of his penis was positioned in that tight sweet spot of quivering muscle and plunged back in: in and out, in and out. His breathing grew heavy as he picked up pace. “Yes... you're just like her... trying to elevate... yourself above those... you are meant to serve... trying to steal... what is theirs by... rights... _mine_ by rights!”

He paused his thrusting, waiting until his breathing had steadied. “Perhaps I should have _you_ stripped and paraded through the streets like your father's mistress, hmm, what do you think? Make you confess to every man, woman and child you're my little whore?”

The sudden jolt of muscle clenching tightly around him made his whole body tingle. _I may not be able to read his face_ , Aerys thought, _but with my cock in his arse, he can't hide a thing from me_. The thought put a smile on his face.

“Oh relax! I won't harm you. I just want to play. Do you truly think I would let the lowborn filth outside these castle walls lay their eyes on you? No. You are mine. Mine alone!”

He resumed pumping, rocking back and forth, digging his nails into his Hand's broad shoulders, moaning with pleasure until he had spent himself, collapsing on top of the other man.

There he stayed, exhausted, fulfilled, at peace with the world, as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He loved the intimacy of breathing in his servant's scent, nuzzling his neck, running his hand through his hair while his flaccid member was still inside of him.

“It is late, Your Grace. You should get some rest.”

“Ah, not so quick!” Aerys scolded. He was not willing to end this sweet moment just yet. Nor had he said all he wanted to say. “There is the matter of the port taxes still. You see, as Qarlton tells the story, low tariffs would drain the Seven Kingdoms of gold, harming most everyone except those few houses that mine it. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?”

The ring around the end of his limp manhood contracted again, only this time the sudden tensing of muscle was accompanied by a heavy, seemingly unending shudder. _Why, someone is terrified now_.

He chuckled. “You can count yourself lucky. If you were ever hiding something from me, I wouldn't have to question you sharply. All I'd need to do is fuck you, and I could read you like a book. But you would never hide anything from me, would you? You would not lie to me or give me false counsel to benefit yourself?” He yanked his Hand's head back suddenly. “No, you would not, because that would be unwise, my friend.”

He waited until the shaking had subsided before pulling out, wiping his manhood clean and closing his pants.

“You wish to dance with the dragons. I grant you, you dance gracefully enough for one so low of birth, but any lion who dances with dragons will burn.” He waved his hand, dismissing his servant. “Send those ravens and see that the port taxes are raised as I instructed.” He paused before adding with a smile, “And _triple_ the tariffs for Lannisport.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Java1 for her suggestion that Aerys draw a parallel between Tywin and Tytos's mistress. Aside from the fact that it worked really well with the chapter, I actually do believe that Tywin knew subconsciously that he himself was not that different from people like, say, Lady Ellyn (and to some extent Tytos's mistress) in his ambitions to raise his house's standing, and that's why he hated her so much.
> 
> I doubt that Qarlton Chelsted was already master of coin at this point in the story (ca. 268 AC), but I didn't know who else would have been, so I picked him as one of Aerys's advisers at court.
> 
> Lord Qarlton's argument is based on [this](http://asoiafuniversity.tumblr.com/post/112462112805/tywin-lannister-and-the-trade-imbalance).


	3. 272 AC (Rhaella)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerys is indisposed and asks his sister to sit on the Small Council on his behalf. Rhaella doesn't feel very welcome, but she's a dragon and determined to make sure next time will be different.

“My lord. If you would come with me. I have need of your service.”

She kept her own bed slaves and rarely ever asked for her brother's pet. She'd certainly never done so in front of the Small Council, but he immediately understood what she meant. So did everyone else in the room, for that matter: the eunuch giggled, the Grand Maester shot her a disapproving look, and the Master of Coin cleared his throat awkwardly.

The Hand himself was caught off guard by her request but quickly recovered himself. “I have urgent matters to attend to, Your Grace,” he said coolly, rising from his chair. “If you'll excuse me.”

Rhaella raised an eyebrow. She wasn't ready to let his insolence slip. “Must I remind you of your duty?”

“To serve the king, Your Grace.”

“Oh, so it's _look but don't touch_ for the queen then?” His icy courtesy both enraged and enticed her. Her lips curled into a smile. “Don't be such a tease!”

The eunuch let out a nervous titter. Everyone else around the table looked down in embarrassed silence.

“Your Grace.” Cold green eyes fixed her. There was that look again, the same look he'd given her when she had taken her seat on the Small Council. But what might have intimidated other people only added to her growing annoyance with her presumptuous servant.

He'd had the courtesy not to interrupt her when she spoke during the meeting, but he had completely ignored any suggestion she'd made unless one of the other council members repeated it.

She hadn't _planned_ to humiliate him in front of the Small Council, but he was clearly _asking for it_. “Yes, you're my brother's plaything, I know. But Aerys and I have always shared our toys since we were little. Trust me, you're no different.”

Varys giggled. “My lord, I would have to consult the royal records to be sure, but I believe Her Grace is correct. She is within her rights to ask you.”

“Preposterous!” Grand Maester Pycelle protested. “It is clearly written that the Hand serves _the king_ , and only the-”

“ _The Council is dismissed_.” Tywin interrupted him. His voice was firm, but a red blush had spread across his face. Rhaella couldn't quite say what amused her more: the Small Council discussing the terms of his sexual indenture or how uncomfortable it made him.

“That was unnecessary, Your Grace.” He said stiffly once everyone had left and they were walking down the passageway towards the queen's chambers.

“Oh, quite the opposite. That was _very_ necessary.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I didn't know how else to get your attention, you see. You seemed _so_ intent on ignoring me.”

He was wise enough to keep his mouth shut for once.

Her handmaid greeted them in her front chamber.

“Help the Lord Hand undress,” Rhaella told her.

“Yes, Your Grace!” The girl knelt on the floor, pulling off his boots before unlacing his doublet and loosening the laces on his pants. He took it from there, sliding off his clothes and undergarments.

If standing naked in front of her made him uncomfortable, he hid it well.

Rhaella eyed him up and down, but still he did not flinch. “You do not want me to sit on the Small Council, that is plain enough.” She said. “Would you prefer to see me on the throne? A queen deserves to sit on a throne, don't you agree?”

“Only the King may sit the Iron Throne, Your Grace, and the Hand in his stead.”

“So you're telling me that _you_ may do what I may not, is that the way of it now? Ah, no, I think not.” She gestured at her handmaiden who was standing by the door, waiting for her orders. “Bring me my throne.”

The maidservant nodded and left. When she returned, she carried a large box made of precious wood with a top that could be unbolted. Rhaella had had it custom made just for her play: one curved opening cut into the side shaped like an upended half-dome, one round hole on the ornately carved top, and a pair of silver manacles attached to the sides. “No need to worry, my lord, as you can see, _my_ throne is not made of iron.”

He was about to say something, but she placed a finger on his lips. “Don't overexert that tongue of yours. You'll have need of it later. Tell me, have you ever used it to pleasure a woman?”

“Your Grace?”

“I'm asking if you've ever used your mouth for something other than back-talking to your queen.” She said testily. “Like licking a woman's lady parts.”

Judging by the shocked look on his face, he had not.

“Pity. Well, you'll learn. Every man can be trained.”

She motioned for her handmaiden to start preparations, and the girl opened the box. “M'lord, if you would place your head here-” she pointed at the opening to the side. “It's padded for your comfort.”

He hesitated, but when he caught a glimpse of the threatening smile on Rhaella's face, he lay on his back and placed his neck on the round opening, resting his head on the soft cushion inside the box.

The maidservant closed the lid and secured the latch, locking his head in place inside the box. The hole was just big enough to fit around his neck without choking him. “If I may, m'lord, your hands,” the girl said. She took his wrists and placed them in the shackles on each side of his head, cuffing them to the box.

The sight made Rhaella smile. “This is how I like to see a man,” she told her handmaiden, “hands tied and his head in a box. Shouldn't all men be made to wear boxes around their heads at all times?”

Her servant didn't know how to respond to that. Rhaella gently touched her shoulder. “Sit down and try him out for me, will you?”

The girl didn't move, even though the queen knew she understood perfectly what was asked of her. “Your Grace, I don't think it would be proper for me to sit on... a... a queen's throne.”

That made her laugh. “You're telling me it would be improper for a lowborn servant to sit on a high lord's face? Don't worry, he's my servant just as you are. That puts you on an equal level.”

The Hand said nothing, but his body tensed. _Oh, it's so easy to tease you about your standing, it almost takes the fun out of it_ , Rhaella thought. She patted her handmaiden's back. “Have a seat, love. This is my reward for you, for your loyal service.”

Reluctantly, the girl pulled up her dress, removed her smallclothes and sat down.

“You know what to do, my lord,” Rhaella said, running her hand over his thigh.

She could tell he was doing _something_ judging by the frightened look on the girl's face, though the Hand himself seemed just as terrified: his chest was heaving up and down, and his legs were trembling.

“Why, are you cold, my lord?” Rhaella asked. “Or are you afraid of the dark?” She got up and took out a glowing ember from the brazier with her bare hands. It was hot enough to leave a stinging sensation on her fingertips, but she was a dragon. _Fire cannot harm me_. She let the coal glide over his chest, grazing his nipples before moving lower, tracing the line of his groin and singeing his pubic hair. He let out a nervous shriek as she came dangerously close to his manhood.

“Ah! No sound from inside the box!” She reproached him. “My toys should be seen but not heard. Now, please, try a little harder or I _will_ burn you there.” She had always found that nothing quite motivated a man like fear.

She knelt behind her nervous handmaiden and started caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples until they stiffened. “Just let go,” she breathed in her ear. “Let go! This is supposed to feel good.”

Slowly, the mouth inside the box seemed to find the right spots. The girl's legs started twitching and a soft moan escaped her lips. “Don't fight it!” Rhaella whispered. “That would be very unkind towards the Lord Hand. He's doing such a fine job!”

She reached down and started massaging her handmaiden's genitals with one hand to speed things up. Occasionally, her fingers would collide with his tongue, but for the most part, they complemented each another surprisingly well. Rhaella could feel her maidservant shudder in her embrace. Then the girl's body tensed up suddenly and she let out a soft gasp before collapsing into the queen's arms.

Rhaella held her for a little longer, kissing the nape of her neck, before pushing her up. “Well done, both of you!” She praised as she led her still dazed handmaid to a chair and sat her down, giving her one last reassuring smile before returning her attention to the box and the head inside of it.

“I suppose it's my turn now.” She hiked up her dress, pulled down her smallclothes and seated herself on top of his face, resting her feet on his chest. She could feel his heart racing under the soles of her feet as she pressed them against his skin. “No need to fear,” she purred, circling his nipple with her toe before bending down and giving it a pinch. “You've done this before. You can do it again.”

As she leaned back, she felt a pair of lips kissing and sucking her soft flesh, then teeth gently nibbling at her labia. His warm breath tickled her, making her giggle. “No need to be shy,” she told him. “Show me what you can do.”

Obediently, his tongue started exploring her, circling her hole, briefly dipping inside before brushing against the soft bud hidden between folds of sensitive skin. It felt clumsy at first, but he was surprisingly quick at learning to read her reactions and adjust accordingly.

It didn't take long until she was wet, rubbing herself against his face, rocking back and forth as he flicked his tongue over her most sensitive parts. “We should rent you out... to all the ladies in the realm...” she moaned, her breath shallow. “Charge each of them a silver... and we could cover the Crown's debts!”

Her body was tingling and her eyes started flickering as she pressed her throbbing lady parts against his face. He tried to twist his head to the side to catch a breath, but she simply pressed down harder. She was almost in a trance, breathing in the sweet scent of fear, watching in fascination as he thrashed and kicked his legs, frantically pulling at his bound wrists and neck. Only when she felt his panicked struggles weakening did she allow him to catch a quick breath before smothering him with full force again – he was of little use to her unconscious, after all.

The friction against her lady parts as he tried to free himself felt better than anything she could have asked him to do. _Nothing compares to the raw struggle for survival._ She moaned with pleasure as the tension inside her built to an almost unbearable level. Then her mind went blank as her muscles contracted one last time, sending a long, deep shudder through her whole body.

She waited until her heart rate had slowed again, sucking in deep breaths of air before getting up and opening the lid of the box. He looked exhausted, his hair matted to his head, the terror of death still in his eyes. Her smile widened. “Oh dear, what have I done.”

She uncuffed his hands and helped him back on his feet. Her handmaid had to help steady him as she walked him to her bed.

“My brother is right. You do have a very skilled mouth, and you learn fast enough,” she said as he lay down on his back. “I think you have earned yourself a royal reward.”

 


	4. 272 AC, Part II (Rhaella)

Rhaella unlaced her dress in the front while her maidservant helped her with the back before pulling it down and sliding it off. She had given birth and nursed a child, yet she knew her body was perfection, her frame slender and delicate, her small breasts firm, her milk-white skin flawless.

He had recovered by then, resting on his elbow, his body turned towards her, his face expressionless as he studied her with pale green eyes.

Rhaella tilted her head. “Do you like what you see, my lord?”

He didn't respond, and she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, but that was part of the beauty of their game.

“Because _I_ like what _I_ see,” she continued. “Strength. Elegance. Power. Resilience.” She lay down next to him, running her hand over the red marks she had left on his skin with the glowing hot coal. “You know what you want. You claim what is yours. You persist. You rebound. I like that in a man.”

She turned onto her back, spreading her legs and raising her hands above her head, gripping the frame of the bed. “Take me like I'm the only woman you've ever wanted to fuck!”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by wariness.

“You think me cruel,” she said, “you think I'm toying with you. But at heart I am just a woman looking for a strong man who can guide me, who is willing to take control and claim me as his. Who do you think will do that for me? My bed slaves? My _brother_?” She laughed. “Aerys is weak. Everybody knows _you_ are the true power behind the throne, my lord. So take what is yours by right. Ravish me. Show me what it means to be fucked by a real man.”

He sat up, looking at her in silence.

“I won't order you to do this,” she added softly. “I'm asking you a favor. The choice is yours.”

He still seemed unsure whether he could trust her or not. But then he nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace.” He quickly stroked himself to hardness with a few well-practiced moves before lowering himself on top of her, pushing her legs back as he entered her.

He was gentle at first, careful not to hurt her, but when he felt her arching her hips, his thrusts grew bolder and more forceful. He closed one hand around her wrists, pinning them above her head, biting her neck as he pushed deeper, making her gasp and moan. By the time he finished inside of her, she was sore and aching, blood mixed with seed running down her thighs.

“Ahh. Just what I needed.” She smiled. “Thank you!”

He looked tired as he pulled out of her and rolled onto his back. She could tell all he wanted to do was go to sleep. _Why,_ that _was easy, poor fool_.

He forced his eyes open and pushed himself up on the bed. “Your Grace. Do I have your leave to retire?”

“No. I'm afraid you do not.”

“Very well,” he said mildly, lying back down and wrapping his arms around her, still too sleepy and content to fully grasp her meaning or even register that her tone of voice had changed. “I just fear I won't be of much use to you in this state.”

She had to stifle a laugh. “Oh, we'll see about that.” Her hands found his member and began rubbing the head in her palm, making him squirm and buck his hips until, finally, he couldn't take it anymore. “Stop it!” He pushed her hand away.

“Ah!” She gave his wrist a brief slap and continued rubbing her hand over his glans without mercy. “Is the _true power_ behind he Iron Throne a bit sensitive today?”

For a moment it seemed as if he wanted to give her an earnest explanation, but all that would come out of his mouth was whimpers and moans. Then the blood returned to his brain at last and he turned his head to the side. “Just _stop- stop_ it, please.”

“Alright,” she pulled back her hand before sliding off the bed. “Since you beg me so prettily. But I do have another gift for you.”

The look in his eyes made her stomach tingle. _He fears me now_ , she knew.

 


	5. 272 AC, Part III (Rhaella)

The wooden box was set up on her bedside table. Rhaella gave her maidservant a smile. _Good girl. She remembered this time._ The lock sprang open as she turned the key, revealing the masterpiece inside.

The Queen owned many dragon-cocks, but this was one was her favorite. It was small, though still as thick as an underarm and almost as long, made of shiny black obsidian with swirls of silver and gold worked into the tip. The Hand's eyes widened. The sight of the giant shaft seemed to have finally jolted him fully awake again.

“Did you know that female dragons had cocks as well? The maesters like to omit this little detail from their histories, but it's true. This one was fashioned after Vhagar's.” He winced as she dragged the dragonglass over his stomach. “It was a gift from my mother. Legend claims it once belonged to Queen Visenya and was handed down from generation to generation, though whether that is true or not no-one can say for sure.”

His eyes followed as she got up and strapped the harness around her waist, running her hand over the shaft. “What do you think, should I make you suck it off?” _That shouldn't be too difficult for you. My brother makes you suck his cock all the time._

“You've made your point, Your Grace. Is there really any need for this?”

“ _Need?_ No. This isn't about need; this is about what I _want_.” Her eyes searched for her handmaiden as she detached the dragonglass from the harness. “Delena, come here, sweetling.” She handed the dragon-cock to the girl. “Put this in the fire for me. A little heat should help the Lord Hand remember it's not his place to argue with the blood of the dragon.”

“If it's a seat on the Small Council you want-”

“What I _want_ is for you to stop talking and get on your hands and knees.”

“Rhaella, please-”

“ _Now_. Believe me, you don't want me to say it again.”

The tortured look on his face as he knelt on all fours was _exquisite_. But just as she thought he would finally shut up, he turned his head again to face her. “Your Grace, if we could have some _privacy_.”

“Why? Do you really think there's a single person at court who doesn't know what the Hand's duties entail? Oh, my brother likes to be discrete for his own sake, that's true enough; he can be shy. But I bet plenty of people watch you. _I_ certainly like to watch. I do so love how you shake and tremble when he takes you.”

She watched his head turn a darker shade of red. _Poor thing. He didn't know._ “Please, relax. My maidservant is sworn to secrecy. Delena, check on my cock. It should be ready.”

She waited until the outer layer of the dragonglass had cooled off before spreading some oil on it. _Aerys would never forgive me if I hurt his favorite plaything._ But that was the beauty of obsidian: the heat stored in the center would be memorable enough without leaving any lasting damage.

He had rested his head on his arms to avoid having to look at her. Her eyes wandered over his buttocks raised in the air, the pair of alabaster thighs, the bare soles of his feet. She couldn't say what exactly it was that made him look so vulnerable.

His whole body tensed as the hot dragonglass rubbed against his hole. “Shhh...” She ran her hands over his sides and his back to try to relax him, but he still flinched at the slightest touch. _We'll just need more oil then_.

But even with that, she still had to force her way in, eliciting a shocked squeal and much squirming as the massive obsidian shaft filled him, burning him from the inside.

Her stomach fluttered as she slowly moved in and out, watching him struggle not to plead with her to stop. He was clasping the sheets, his back and shoulders shuddering.

“Watch him,” Rhaella told her handmaid. “Do you think he likes being taken like this?”

Delena hesitated. “I... I don't... I don't know, Your Grace... No... I don't think... I don't think he does.”

The Queen smiled, watching her prey recoil and shift uneasily as she reached around to stroke his overstimulated cock. “Why, yes, I think you're right, he _doesn't_ particularly  enjoy this. Why do you think that is? The size of my dragon-cock? The heat? The fact that he's already spent, and I _still_ won't leave him alone?”

Her maidservant's head turned crimson. “I... I think he dislikes... being taken by... by a _woman_ , Your Grace.”

“Yes... yes, very good! But it's more than that...” Rhaella grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled his head back. “You see, when we were children, we used to play together... He _liked_ me... even _kissed_ me once... told me he'd do anything for me... that I was his _princess_... _his_ princess, mind you... that he would _save_ me from my marriage, from my brother, from anyone who'd do me harm...”

She twisted the chain with one hand and closed her other hand around his balls, squeezing tightly as she thrust the dragon-cock all the way inside of him. “I'm not just any woman, Delena. He _hates_ being fucked by his precious dragon princess. I'm supposed to be sitting in my castle, looking out the window, waiting for him to come save me; I'm-”

A knock on the door interrupted her.

If the guard was surprised by the sight of the Queen taking the Hand on all fours, he did not show it. “Your Grace, the King has asked for Lord Tywin to join him.”

“Aerys can wait,” Rhaella said testily. “We are not done yet, are we, my lord?”

The expression in his eyes was blank, his voice flat: “As you wish, Your Grace.”

 _It's not an act_ , she realized. _This toy is broken_. She pulled out, suddenly having lost all interest. “Oh, go, my lord. Go be my brother's pet. You bore me to tears.”


End file.
